Perspective

UPDATE: We're back on line. Our tech, who happened to mention he lives in the same town we do, came back over and got us hooked up -- on his day off -- after we, ahem, hunted him down at his house. (Good thing he drives that big BridgeMaxx truck and parked it in front of his house.) He was very courteous and had us hooked up in just a few minutes -- apparently, at the same time we disconnected last night, "the guys" were doing some server maintenance, so we got left out in the loop. Thanks to Jake (who was doing this work because the regular guy who does it is out of town) for getting us hooked up again.

I'm trying not to complain.

We do, after all, have a nice, warm house to live in, where we can select two kinds of heat – from a gas furnace or from a wood stove – or select both of them at the same time. We have clean, running water. We have electricity – well, most of the time. We are in Rocky Mountain Power territory, after all. We have all sorts of labor-saving appliances, two vehicles that run well, shoes, clothing, a washer and a dryer, and many other conveniences that make our existence on this planet pleasant, much more pleasant than most.

Still, there is something lacking. And that thing is internet access.

It seems a trivial thing, of course, when compared to the suffering of people in Somalia, the impending flooding of the Seychelles due to climate change and the daily myriad sufferings that people of lesser means suffer. There is good reason to believe I am a capitalist dog ungrateful for what life has handed to me, too expectant for more and too reliant on what I've already got.

Still, being without internet for nearly a week really sucks.

BridgeMaxx, bless them, has tried, in their own bumbling corporate way. We have an ally in the corporate offices in Virginia who has pulled a few strings for us, but from that distance it's hard to tell whether the string pulled made the puppet dance in the appropriate manner. After the technician came last night after three days of trying to get them to come, we had internet access – which we didn't even use, ungrateful scallywags that we are – for about a half hour, until the tech called and told us to unplug everything, then reconnect, to get a stronger signal. We went back to square one, on a Friday night, with no hope of recourse until Monday.

That explains why I'm sitting at the Hart Auditorium, trying to sponge off the university's wi-fi signal, so we can pay the electricity bill and perform some other sundry duties that, left undone, would leave our lives empty and unfulfilled – such a blogging, of course. Trying is the word, however, as we don't have proper access and are trying to get an ID and password out of somebody so we can get into the network.

But I'm able to sit here, staring out the big windows that let onto the stadium field, and enjoy a bit of sunshine. Someone's built a snowman on the field and he looks very happy out there. Footprinted paths crisscross the field, breaking up the even monotony that Mother Nature brought us on New Years Eve.

Life is still pretty good, however. We'd just like all of the capitalist bourgoise accoutrements of our extravagant lifestyle restored.